


Zingers

by sinesofinsanity



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Blacksmithing, Gen, Prosthesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinesofinsanity/pseuds/sinesofinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fighting to save the dragons and vikings of Berk, Hiccup returns home with a very different set of problems. Now he has to learn to deal with his old leg acting up without a foot to keep in in line. Plus his new leg isn't working as it should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FishEyenoMiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/gifts).



> This story is in part inspired by [this video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cS9QMVZQFkw).
> 
> HUGE thanks to kiki_eng and not_madeleine for their beta-ing and reassurances.

It was late. Really late. Past midnight at the very least. Every sensible creature on Berk was asleep. That probably made Hiccup insensible but he knew that already. He had been dreaming peacefully, when his leg decided it was a good time to violently wake him with shooting pains. Again.

“Ugh, will you cut that out!?” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing the offending limb from knee to stump. The pain subsided, giving him just enough time to relax before it started up again. “Perfect.” He gave up the massage and just flopped back onto his bed, letting the pain die out on its own.

Gobber called it the zingers. “Jus’ your body’s way of getting used to its new shape,” he’d explained. “It’s not nearly as annoying as you think it is. Wait ‘till your foot starts itching! But there’s only one way Vikings know deal with feet or hands acting up when they’re not there to act up.”

“What’s that?”

Gobber had whacked his left arm (which that day had been replaced with a tankard) violently against the table, startling the occupants on the opposite end from himself and Hiccup. “By punching things! ‘Course it helps if there’s a dra – er – enemy nearby for you to punch.”

“Naturally the Viking way is the most violent and makes the least sense,” groaned Hiccup into his pillow. The zingers had settled into a rhythm; stab of pain, slow lessening to nothing, a few seconds of relief, and another stab. Hiccup cast his mind around for something else to focus on. After his talk with Gobber, he’d sought a second opinion.

“Zingers, eh?” Arnar had lost his arm above the elbow a few years ago in one of the failed expeditions to find the dragons’ nest. “Heh, Gobber’s good at naming things, but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I still get those now and again. Gobber taught you the punching method? Right, well, if it helps, I usually get ‘em when I’m worried about something. Before a dragon attack, or when my mother-in-law comes to visit, or when my wife gets that ‘I-haven’t-killed-anything-in-a-while’ look in her eye."

“So what am I worried about?” The pain had subsided to a dull throb, so he sat up again and looked over at Toothless. The dragon had chosen to sleep indoors that night due to the amount of snow on the roof, and was curled up with his head tucked under one wing. As Hiccup watched Toothless stirred slightly, flicked his tail and brought it down on the other side, the dragon equivalent of rolling over.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” stated Hiccup, pulling himself back under the covers. It could wait until morning.

* * *

 

The next morning Hiccup still felt uneasy. He couldn’t figure out what had caused the zingers but he decided keeping busy would probably distract him enough from whatever it was that was causing them. He and Toothless went extra far on their morning flight around the island, they and the other dragon riders helped out at a home that was putting up a new roof, and they all carried supplies from the village down to the dock to help load for the upcoming walrus hunt.

“Not as much danger or glory as fighting dragons but we’ve got to feed the village over winter, and the ocean can kill a man as quickly as any dragon’s claws,” Stoick had told the teens.

“It’s reassuring how that’s the first thing you thought of.” Commented Hiccup dryly.

“Aye,” agreed Stoick.

By noon, Toothless was ready for a break so Hiccup, after removing the saddle and checking for sores, let him wander off to play with the other dragons. Still feeling antsy, he headed for the smithy. Gobber was down at the docks helping with the walrus hunt preparations so the forge was empty. After double-checking to make sure the coast was clear, Hiccup walked over to the shelf he’d claimed for his own work and pulled his latest project out from behind a box.

He was working on a new spring for his leg. The current spring wasn’t bouncy enough, which made it next to impossible to run without tripping. It was an odd trade-off. Without the spring, if his leg was a peg like Gobber’s or a wooden foot like Hilmar’s, he would be able to learn how to run just fine as long as he compensated with a sideways limp—not particularly fast or graceful, but still running. With the spring connecting the wooden top part of his leg to the metal foot-piece, he had extra movement in his left foot which allowed him to control Toothless’s tail. Giving up flying wasn’t an option, even if he would have been satisfied with a lop-sided run, so he needed a leg with a spring and he needed a spring with just the right amount of bounce.

Sometimes he wished that he had lost his right leg instead so he could fly Toothless and run without going to so much trouble – it was silly to wish he hadn’t lost a leg at all. With so many of the adults on Berk missing a body part or two, all of the teens had grown up expecting to lose an eye, a few fingers, or a foot in the fight against the dragons. Even his dad, the biggest and baddest dragon killer in the village, had lost three toes to frostbite at some point in his youth. It was simply the way things were.

So far, all he had were several pieces of strong wire of various thicknesses. He was trying to keep the project a secret so he hadn’t had many chances to work on it. Bending down, he undid the straps that attached his current leg. He needed to take it apart, measure the pieces, and experiment with the fit of everything.

“Hey Hiccup.”

“Astrid!” he jumped, spilling wires on the ground.

“Watch it! You almost hit me with that thing!”

“Sorry! Sorry I, uh…” he fumbled, trying to pick up wires. She bent down to help.

“If you had, would that count as kicking me? Because if I get to kick you back, I bet I could boot you all the way to the Great Hall from here.”

“Let’s never test that theory. Astrid, what are you doing here?” The last wire was dumped on the worktable. After pulling out charcoal, paper, and measuring sticks, Hiccup sat on the stool by the table and began disassembling his leg.

“I came to see what you were doing. What else? Toothless conned all the other dragons into some kind of game at the beach.”

“Is Toothless winning?”

“No, Stormfly is.” She replied proudly.

“Good for Toothless.”

“Hey tha-“ she shook her head, “You’re just distracting me, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore?” He reached for a hot iron and pliers to disconnect the spring from its slot.

“Ugh, well you obviously don’t want Gobber to know what you’re working on or you wouldn’t have waited until he was busy at the docks to come in here.”

“Who says I’m working on anything?”

“Hiccup’s working on a secret project?” Fishlegs appeared at the window, his shoulders nearly blocking out the light.

“It’s nothing.”

“He says it’s nothing but he won’t leave it to come and see what the dragons are doing,” taunted Astrid.

“You never said we needed to check on them.”

“They’re throwing sand at each other.” supplied Fishlegs.

“What?”

“Yes, it’s fascinating. There’s nothing about this in the dragon manual. We should make a note of the games dragons like to play and what that means for their physiological development. Like if a dragon with spikes starts to-“

“Oh, shut up, Fishlegs!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut wandered up. They shoved each other to get through the door first, but ended up each leaning against opposite sides of the door frame. “What are we all doing here? Did someone get burned?”

“Hiccup’s working on a secret project,” supplied Fishlegs.

“I’m not working on a secret project!”

“It has something to do with his leg, which he thinks we won’t notice on the workbench.” Astrid gestured at Hiccup and the supplies he had spread across the table.

“Bor-ing, can we burn stuff instead?”

“What? No!” said Hiccup, covering the page of measurements with his arms before the twins got any ideas.

“We can burn your face,” suggested the other twin. Hiccup relaxed a bit and went back to jotting down measurements.

“Nah, your face is more burnable. It looks like someone already burned it.”

“Your mom’s face looks like someone burned it!”

“So does yours!”

“You take that back!”

“You guys have the same mom!” yelled Astrid, jumping between the twins before they could come to blows.

“Oh, yeah, and her face did get burned.”

“Yeah, she’s got that awesome scar that looks like a dragon’s tooth.”

“Yeah,” the twins settled back against the doorframe again. Astrid looked to Fishlegs who just shrugged. Hiccup did his best to ignore them all.

“Hey!” Snotlout poked his head through the back window. “What are all you losers doing in here?”

“We’re having a party!” Hiccup threw up his hands in frustration.

“Hiccup has a secret project,” explained Astrid. “He thinks we don’t know about it.”

“So, why should I care?” asked Snotlout with a grunt. Hiccup was inclined to agree with the sentiment, but he’d made it a policy to never agree with Snotlout so he focused on the last measurements to avoid confusing himself.

“Because the last time Hiccup had a secret project, it was riding dragons.” stated Fishlegs. That caught Hiccup’s attention. He turned on the stool. All the other teens were watching him with expressions ranging from expectation to confusion.

“You think I – I’m sorry guys, but this is just for me. I’m...” He took a breath. This was probably what had been worrying him yesterday. Up until this point it had just been an idea. If he failed it was no big deal. Once he told the other teens, it would make the project real. “I’m making some alterations to my leg.”

“You’re sure it’s just for you?” asked Ruffnut.

“I don’t think it would fit you properly.” Hiccup answered. Ruffnut just looked confused.

“But why is it secret?” asked Fishlegs.

“Well, Gobber made my leg and I just wanted to do this on my own, you know? Without his help, just to know I can.”

“But what exactly are you doing?” Snotlout asked from the window.

“I’m just fixing the spring really, making it easier to run.”

“Man, legs with springs are awesome!” declared Tuffnut. “If my legs had springs I’d jump off the roof and just bounce everywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s how it works,” snorted Hiccup. Just last night he’d forgotten to leave his leg by the fire overnight again and hoarfrost had built up in the spring, freezing it in place. It left him with an awkward limp until it thawed, which had resulted in quite a spectacular faceplant as soon as he’d stepped outdoors.

“Look, if you didn’t want Gobber to find out yet, that’s all you had to say,” Astrid told him, “All of us are doing stuff around the village today; we’ll keep an eye out and let you know if he’s coming.”

“Really? That’d be great. I-“

“Boring!” declared Snotlout. He stepped back from the window and walked away.

The rest of the teens wandered off one at a time. Hiccup turned back to the table, picked up a wire, and began to work.

Since he started as Gobber’s assistant, Hiccup had worked on a lot of different projects: barrel rings, hooks, axes, the odd sword, hammers, chisels, and nails, so many nails. But springs were something new. The wire needed to be heated evenly then curled at a steady rate or part of it would cool faster than the rest, creating a weak spot. He pumped the bellows to build up the flame. The first attempt snapped in half from the stress of dumping it in water to cool off. The second survived the bath, but bent sideways when he tested putting weight on it. Again, he slowly twined the hot metal around and around. The third attempt was too wide for the leg. The fourth cooled too quickly while he was twisting it, leaving him with only half a spring. The fifth had so many obvious weak points along its length he didn’t want to risk testing it. The sixth and seventh both bent sideways again, and the eighth was wider in the center than on either end.

“Why did I think this was anything but hopeless?” He threw down the tongs in frustration, and they clanged against the side of the table.

There was a soft noise behind him, somewhere between a chirp and a grunt. He turned. Toothless, sitting on the roof, was sticking his head upside-down though the front window and considering Hiccup with dragon grin.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

Toothless tilted his head slightly.

“Well I was trying to make a spring but I seem to be as bad at that as I am at everything else.” The dragon hopped down and crawled through the window. Although he couldn’t really fit comfortably in the smithy, he wandered over and nudged Hiccup with his head.

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t really see how you could-“ He sat up straighter, an idea coming to him. “Actually, maybe you could!” He hopped up on his right leg, using the table and Toothless’s head for support, and loaded more charcoal into the forge before sitting back down again.

“Okay, so Night Fury fire is pretty much the hottest of any dragon, right?” Toothless gave Hiccup a rather disdainful look. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you already know that. But here, look, I’ll heat up the wire in the forge. You blast that anvil to heat it up a bit so the wire won’t cool down so fast.” With an eye roll that he clearly picked up from Hiccup, Toothless complied. The spot on the anvil that he hit with flame glowed red for a moment before settling back to black. He hit the spot twice more before it stayed dull orange. By this point Hiccup had the wire ready, holding it carefully to avoid bumping Toothless in the cramped smithy; he placed the wire on the warm spot and began to turn it. The heated anvil kept the wire warm while he worked, allowing him to take a bit more time to get the turns right. He went through two tries: the first was the wrong size, the second was too bouncy. Toothless had to blast the anvil once more to heat it up. Finally, Hiccup had a spring that was even, the right size, and, when he tested it against his current spring, had just the right amount of bounce. He inserted it into the space on his leg, asked Toothless to shoot tiny flames to weld it in place, and hammered in the pin that held the foot-piece and spring to the rest of the leg. He gave the entire thing a shake to make sure it was put together properly, strapped it on and stood.

“Okay, let’s do this.” With a leap (as much as was possible), Toothless scampered outside. Hiccup followed slowly. It was bizarre to walk with the new spring since he’d gotten used to the old one. Did he really expect to be able to run on it?

For several moments Hiccup stood in the doorway, Toothless watching him from the rooftop opposite. He could do this, he could do this. From behind the house Toothless sat on, he could hear Astrid calling. He could do this before Astrid got here.

He took a step, then another. He pushed off, and fell flat on the ground. Right away there was a scent of fish as Toothless inspected him to see what was wrong.

“Aw, gross! If I start running today it’ll be to get away from dragon breath.” Pushing himself up, he tried again. One step, two, three… after four steps without falling he went a little faster. The spring was working; he could speed up without losing his balance. His gait wasn’t perfect but then he’d never been the best runner anyway. He sped up. He was doing it! He was running! Really and truly running!

He let out a whoop which Toothless echoed, doing backflips as he followed Hiccup’s progress from the rooftops. It was amazing! He felt like he could run forever. Hearing applause he turned to see Astrid and Fishlegs clapping wildly, with Snotlout trying to look bored and Ruffnut and Tuffnut fighting behind them. He grinned and waved. He had done it!

With the other teens following, he turned and ran down to the docks. As soon as he saw his son, Stoick dropped the box he was carrying and cheered. Gobber waved and grinned, “Good show, laddie!” he called. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to run with a leg like that.”

Hiccup just laughed. He wasn’t worried about anything right now.

**Author's Note:**

> "Zingers" refers to nerve pain in the residual limb. It may result from changes to the nerve structure, pinching of the nerve ending between muscle tissue, or changes to the structure of connective tissue. Phantom pain or phantom sensations are pain or other feelings that seem to come from the missing limb. Technical info [here](http://www.amputee-coalition.org/fact_sheets/painmgmt.html). Members of [this](http://amputee-center.com/forum2/index.php/topic,215.0.html) forum brought up that stress, worry, and unhealthy habits usually precede a zinger attack.


End file.
